


Iad Teloah

by ThetaWolfe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Legion (2010)
Genre: ...sorta, Angels, HUGE Age Difference, M/M, Master of Death, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slash, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:04:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThetaWolfe/pseuds/ThetaWolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry hadn't expected any of this, then again, he never thought he would awaken after he was forced through the Veil of Death. A different Earth with no wizards, no Hogwarts, and no Magic. At least there's the apocalypse to look forwards too. SLASH Harry x Michael. Iad Teloah means Master/God of Death, very rough translation in Enochian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> "Man was created a little lower than the angels, and has been getting lower ever since."
> 
> -Josh Billings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Man was created a little lower than the angels, and has been getting lower ever since."
> 
> -Josh Billings

_When I was a little girl, my mother would remind me each night before bed to be sure to open my heart to God, for he was kind, merciful, and just. Things changed after my father left a few years later, leaving her to raise me and my brothers alone in a little place out on the edge of the Mojave Desert. She never talked about a kind and merciful God again. Instead she spoke of a prophecy. Of a time when all the world would be covered in darkness and the fate of Mankind would be decided. One night I finally got up the courage to ask my mother why God had changed, why he was so mad at his children. "I don't know," she said, tucking the covers around me, "I guess he just got tired of all the bullshit."_

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**London, England**

**November 19** **th,** **2002**

**10:42 p.m.**

Harry strode down of the hallway, agitated. Cloak billowing behind him with every step, people scattered out of his way as he scowled darkly. With his hands fisted at his side, he quickly devoured the distance between his office and the head of his department. All in all, he looked to be presenting a passable representation of the late Severus Snape.

The once Boy-Who-Lived was angry…no furious. For months now the Veil had been acting strangely. People noted that as they walked by they could hear words of an unknown language whispering to them. The colorless shroud seemed to shift almost into shapes; one person claiming that they saw a child's hand reaching out to him as if behind a curtain.

As an employee in the in the Department of Mysteries, Harry had been assigned to research the Veil ever since he started working there. Most people had assumed that he would go into politics, or be an Auror. Right out of Hogwarts he had even dabbled in Healing as a MediWizard Apprentice under Madame Pomfrey. After completing his Apprenticeship at nineteen, he had instead decided to travel for a year.

Harry had great fun visiting Italy, Russia, China, and Africa. He helped build schools, taught in the hospitals, hunted in the jungle, and swam in the Nile. Coming back to England just seemed…dull. He floundered around for a few months, throwing away request forms from the Auror Academy, the Unspeakable Department, and the Chuddly Cannons. It amazed him to discover that he didn't want to do any of those things anymore.

His friends had all moved on. Ron was married to Hermione who worked in the Department of Magic rallying support for Creature Rights and occasionally dabbling in the new area of Technomagic. Ron was currently the Keeper of the Chuddly Cannons two years running and contracted for another three.

Neville bounced between Hogwarts as the current Herbology teacher, and Saint Mungo's in the Ward for those damaged irreparably from Dark Curses. Ginny eventually got tired of waiting for Harry and turned her gaze further afield. Less than a year later she had fallen head over heels in love with Dean. Last he heard she was a stay at home mom with twins on the way. He was truly happy for her.

Luna was…somewhere. She went traveling with her father to search for some creature that Harry was pretty sure didn't actually exist. Their correspondence though was filled with happiness and it brought joy to his heart that she was so carefree and in love with life. Everyone had moved on, but Harry, he just couldn't seem to let the past go. Even traveling and seeing the wonder in the world, he could feel this creeping darkness in his heart. Something was missing, he just wasn't sure what.

A little after his twentieth birthday, Harry got a letter from the Department of Mysteries. Three days later he was running the research operation for the Veil of Death. For nine months he had studied the thing, staring at it in both hate and wonder. That thing took his dogfather from him, and Harry was determined to find a way to bring him back. For nine months it did nothing, occasionally whispering at him, but all in all…it never changed.

Two months ago though, something had altered. Harry jumped head first into analyzing, recording, and researching. Finally, when he had enough facts, he took it to the higher ups. After three grueling hours of presenting, questioning, and explaining…nothing. He got an, "I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but this isn't a priority right now."

In other words, they didn't care. Tomorrow they were transferring him to another division, worried that he was obsessed with the thing. Slamming the door shut to his office, he paced back and forth along the rug in front of his desk. So maybe he was obsessed, but that didn't mean he wasn't qualified. He just needed more time, more time to make them see.

Something was changing with the Veil, and Harry was going to figure out what. Decision made, Harry strode to the desk purposefully, grabbing his ratty bag with his notes and journals before he all but ran out of his office. Minutes later found Harry sitting uncomfortably in front of the Veil, book in hand as he recorded everything he saw. He was going to find a way to bring Sirius back from the Veil, no matter what it took.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**London, England**

**November 20** **th,** **2002**

**3:29 a.m.**

_"Harry…"_

He startled awake, green eyes darting around the room. It was dark, shadows surrounding every corner. There was no one there; the room was barren, just him and the Veil. Fingers dug into his eyes in fatigue; still hazy from the nap he had accidently taken. A chill went down his back and he turned his gaze to his arms, hairs raised as he got the strangest feeling.

_"Noasmi…ol oiad…Harry…"_

"Who's there?" He shouted, standing quickly wand already in hand. His legs almost buckled as blood flowed back into the sleeping limbs. He turned around quickly, taking in the shadows at the edge of the room. There was nothing there.

_"Harry…"_

He turned slowly, heart pounding as his gaze landed on the only other thing in the room. _"Oadriax g-chis-ge…paz…ol…"_

It came from the Veil. The whispers beckoned to him, calling him. Harry's fingers went limp, wand clattering unnoticed upon the stone floor. His feet seemed to move on their own, sneakers shuffling closer to the dais. His mind screamed at him to turn, to run away, but his body kept moving forward.

_"Ol…g-chis-ge oi…"_

The words seduced him, drawing him closer with their unknown meaning. Something was behind the Veil, something was waiting for him. For just a moment, that hole in heart seemed to disappear and he felt whole. His hand reached out, skimming the ghostly surface, desperate to feel that complete again. Sensation left his fingers, a deep cold traveling up his arm. Harry tried to make himself jerk back, screaming in his own mind.

_"Oiad nanaeel ol…"_

He stepped through the Veil, wand lying upon the floor near his bag and his notes. For weeks people would search for him, trying to recreate the phenomenon of the Veil, but the arch was quiet; no longer could whispers be heard. Ginny would cry as the Ministry declared Harry Potter dead at twenty-one, having committed suicide. The research on the Veil would be stopped, the room locked up and forbidden to all.

Hermione would scream for days at those who would listen, begging for the search to continue. Ron would hold her close, whispering unheard words of comfort as the media skewed the last few months of their best friend's life. They would paint him in a desperate, pitiful life of a war torn hero unable to cope with the loss of life on the battle field. Neville would shake his head sadly, planting a beautiful mourning flower in his own personal greenhouse.

And Luna…well, she just smiled brightly, a knowing look in her eyes as she heard the news.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Somewhere in Heaven**

The Archangel Michael jerked his head up in confusion. Eyes darting around, Gabriel gazed at his friend worried. "Brother?" He questioned lightly, moving closer, wing quivering as he allowed it to brush his brother's in a comforting gesture.

Michael didn't seem to hear him, moving towards the balcony to gaze at the rolling clouds below. Gabriel followed him hesitantly, watching as his fellow Angel reached up to clutch at his chest tightly. "Brother, what is it?"

Seconds passed, minutes, an eternity, before an answer came. Michael turned to him, blue eyes swimming in confusion as his heart raced beneath his palm, gut twisting in anticipation. Something was here, waiting for him. "I don't know…"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words whispered are Enochian, the language of the Angels. And here are the translations. Remember, this is really a rough, rudimentary translation.
> 
> Noasmi ol oiad – Come to us
> 
> Oadriax g-chis-ge paz ol – We await (pending) you
> 
> Ol g-chis-ge oi – You are his
> 
> Oiad nanaeel ol – He has (owns) you


	2. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I feel that there is an angel inside me whom I am constantly shocking."
> 
> \- Jean Cocteau

**Los Angeles, USA**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:02 a.m.**

The moon was waxing, not quite full in the nearly cloudless sky. A dog barked from behind a chain link fence as sirens blasted loudly down the streets. Glass shattered from somewhere behind, periodic gunfire echoed down the alleyways. The wind whipped past him, wings flapping lazily, just enough to slow him down.

Michael landed hard, tumbling onto the pavement as his hands scrapped along the ground to catch him. He forced himself to his feet, body protesting at the abuse. His tattered cloak hung limply off his shoulders as blood ran slowly down the side of his face. It was harder than he thought, escaping heaven to come here, unnoticed. He had run into several Angels, but they wouldn't be able to set off the alarm for a least a few more hours. He made sure of it.

It hurt, having to fight his brothers and sisters, most of which he had trained himself. But he didn't regret it. Father had told them to love humans, and he did, with all of his heart…he didn't know how to stop.

Something had recently changed though, in the last eight years. Ever since that night, when something had gripped his heart and Gabriel had stood by him worried, Michael knew that he needed to get to Earth. He just didn't know why. Once, he had tried to explain it to his brother, but Gabriel didn't understand this _need_ he had. Something was down there…waiting for him.

The Archangel shook his head, pulling himself from such thoughts. Now was not the time. Deep set blue eyes darted around, taking in the brick walls of the alley. Michael glanced the way he had come, but there was no one following him. Thunder boomed loudly in the night sky, drowning out the chaotic sounds of the city around him for just a moment. Seconds later rain began to fall in a down pour.

He kept his face turned up, relishing the feel of the water washing away the blood and sweat. It was several millennia since he felt rain on his skin, but he couldn't dawdle, there was no time.

Sirens wailed, blue and red lights flashing across the wet brick and puddled water. Michael ducked behind a dumpster, leaning heavily against the wall. Breathing harshly, he started as a loud bark came from his left. He brandished his ornate knife, blade inscribed in his people's language, wishing he had not left his sword behind. But it was just a dog, chained behind the fence and of no consequence to him other than it was annoying.

Michael pulled his attention from the mutt, ripping his jacket open, fingers digging into the slick material. His wings stretched out uncomfortably behind him, bare chest quickly became soaked, dark tattoos upon pale skin. He grabbed the knife, staring at it only for a moment before he pulled it across flesh and bone. It only took seconds, wings gone, disappearing, bloody knife clattering upon the pavement.

The unearthly scream that rose from his battered throat was torturous, drowning out all other sound. It choked off as a blue halo lowered upon the collar over his neck. The loud click of a latch, it fell to the ground as he collapsed from the pain. Blood mixed with rain water, swirling together as it flowed down a drain.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Los Angeles, USA**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:36 a.m.**

Face pinched in pain, Michael walked out of the alleyway. The trench coat stuck uncomfortably to his back, still bleeding from the wounds. Michael gazed intently at the store front across the street, light flickering sporadically. It read Happy Toy Co. and Imports, Korean symbols written above translating to roughly the same thing.

Inside it was cavernous, a Costco of sorts for survivalists. A lone guard armed with a pistol and flashlight patrolled between the vast aisles. A squeak distracted him, torch darting down to light upon the doggy chew toy he had stepped on. Reaching down, he grabbed the little red sumo wrestler and squeezed it, smiling briefly, before the skylight broke apart above him. And then only darkness.

Michael rolled the guard over, unconscious but alive. He quickly disarmed the man before he made his way to the dirty bathroom, nearly ripping the first aid box off of the wall. Black trench coat falling to the floor, Michael threw the supplies into the sink, sorting through it quickly. Blood dripped down his back, obscuring the dark tattoos that covered his entire body, ankle to neck in beautiful Enochian writing. The language of the Angels.

He tore open a package, threading a curved suture needle with fishing wire. Michael turned, gazing over his shoulder into the mirror; he took in the horrific wounds that gapped open at both shoulder blades. Hands steady, he hesitated only briefly before he brought needle to flesh, pulling it taught as he began to stitch the wound closed.

Within seconds blood began to pool upon the floor by his bare feet. He grunted, holding back a scream as the needle pierced skin again and again, choking as he bit his tongue. It took him several minutes to finish with the left shoulder blade, bloody hand grasping the porcelain sink in a punishing grip as he awkwardly tied off the stitch.

He stood there for a few moments; head down as he breathed deeply to slow his rapidly beating heart. Seconds later he grabbed the suture needle again, rethreading it with the wire, before he shifted, exposing the other side.

When he finished, Michael rushed out of the bathroom, quickly finding the clothes section. It took him very little time to get dressed, grabbing a grey trench coat in afterthought, shrugging it on. Black boots laced up, he stalked to the weapon section, searching quickly amongst the racks of guns. He passed many by, grabbing only certain ones and placing them in his duffle bags.

All of his movements were precise, no action wasted. He moved with an old sort of familiarity, a soldier that had been trained for this all of his life, rushing through the shelves purposefully. Both of the bags were filled in no time, and he turned to leave. He stopped curiously, gazing at the door as he cocked his head to the side. It was chained and barred.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Los Angeles, USA**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**2:08 a.m.**

Officer Estevez grunted frustrated as he failed yet another level of Angry Birds for the seventh time. He gazed at it in annoyance, his five year old son seemed to play it with ease, and yet he couldn't figure out what most of the birds even did half the time. The radio crackled on and off, lively with activity. It was a busy night.

Officer Burton glanced at his partner before he turned his gaze out to the city's streets, taking in her soaked denizens with a deep hatred twisting his thoughts. They loomed in doorways, camped out on sidewalks, drank in the shadows. Streetwalkers.

"Goddamn animals," he mumbled. "Nights like this I wish I could take a match to this city just so I could watch all these motherfuckers burn."

Estevez laughed softly, eyes still riveted on his phone. "A good ol' boy barbecue, huh?" Estevez glanced up at his partner when he got no reply, taking in the older man's unsmiling face and serious demeanor. He frowned.

"A fresh start," Burton continued, oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere filling the squad car. "That's what this place needs," he held up his hand, fingers pointing like a pistol. He aimed it at the people as they passed them by. "Pow! Pow! Pow!"

Burton's dark laughter filled the car, sending a chill down his partner's spine. "Jesus…" Estevez mumbled, turning away from him. "You know Burton, I'm so happy we get to share beautiful moments like this. They really brighten my da-"

An explosion ahead of them cut him off. Fire rushed out of the store front as if it were a living thing. Burton slammed the brakes, debris raining down upon the squad car. Estevez gazed out into the burning building, taking in the gaping hole where the door used to be. It looked like a flaming cross. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he watched dazedly as a man stepped brazenly out of the building, two large rifle bags in either hand.

"What the fuck!" Burton yelled, stumbling out of the squad car as he pulled his gun from his holster, Estevez not far behind. "Stop! Drop the bags! Put your hands on your head!"

Slowly, Burton moved from behind the car, approaching the man cautiously. Estevez followed his lead, momentarily distracted as their police radio crackled urgently, desperate voices talking over each other. "Shots fired…code three…Officer down!" In the distance they could hear rapid gunfire, helicopters, sirens, and screaming.

They shifted nervously, gaze darting to each other before returning to the strange man. "It's starting," he told them, shaking his head solemnly. "There isn't much time."

Estevez shot Burton a quick anxious glance, uneasy. Burton's face twisted in anger. "Shut the fuck up and drop the bags now!"

No hesitation, the man in the trench coat raised his arms to his sides, dropping the bags on the wet ground. "Hands on your head!" Estevez shouted, shifting closer. "On your head!"

Slowly, his hands rose to his head, palms lying gently on his skull. "Turn around!" Burton yelled as Estevez began to holster his gun, grabbing the cuffs instead. "Turn the fuck around!"

The man turned around leisurely, completely calm. Once his back was to him, Estevez rushed to retrain him. He grabbed the man's wrist, fingers barely tightening before the stranger spun into action. He moved so quickly Estevez didn't see it coming. A loud snap and Estevez shouted in pain as his arm broke, gun taken, and was spun helplessly around. The pistol dug harshly into his head, his one useful arm gripped painfully behind him, restraining him. He was a human shield.

Burton struggled desperately, trying to find a shot. "Let 'em go!"

"Take the shot, Burton," Estevez bit out, trying not to scream as his broken arm was jostled.

"I said let him fuckin' g-g-g-"

Burton was cut off, hands falling down to his sides as his body seemed to seize, head shaking impossibly from side to side so quickly that it blurred. "What the…" Estevez mumbled, momentarily forgetting his predicament in the bizarreness of the situation. Burton's eyes clenched tightly shut in pain, his whole body quaking as a pressure built up inside of him, burning him. It was forcing him out, pushing him back. Burton was terrified, and then he was nothing.

"Burton?" Estevez shouted, desperate. Suddenly the shaking stopped. His partner opened his eyes, his _black_ eyes. Mouth full of razor sharp teeth, he spoke, an inhuman voice leaving his partner's throat.

" _What are you doing, Michael? These weren't your orders."_

The words seemed to echo strangely around them. Estevez gazed at his partner in confusion, a deep fear taking a hold of him. "What did you say?"

There was silence for several seconds, before the man holding him hostage, Michael, began to speak. "No, I'm following my own orders now."

" _Then you will die along with the child."_

"Burton," Estevez shouted, desperate and confused. "You fuckin' know this guy? What the hell are you sa-"

Estevez dropped dead, bullet between his eyes as Burton shot him. Michael dived to the ground, suddenly without cover, as the possessed Officer shot at him, bullets tearing into the concrete. But Michael was faster, standing quickly, Burton's chest exploded as Michael shot him, the impact throwing the man off of his feet, dead before he hit the ground.

Michael only gazed at him long enough to ascertain that he was truly dead before he strode quickly over to his rifle bags, lifting them as if they weighed nothing. He loaded them into the trunk of the squad car and then climbed into the driver's seat. The car accelerated rapidly, heading towards the outskirts. The power began to fail block by block, plunging the city into darkness.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**5:52 a.m.**

Jeep bolted awake, gasping for breath as the last fringes of the nightmare left him. Sweat beaded down his forehead, mouth dry as he leaned over and switched a lamp on. His room was tiny, the bed almost touching the opposite wall leaving little room to walk. Jeep sat there in a daze, unsure of what to do before he started to feel claustrophobic.

He left the tiny trailer, made even smaller since it had been divided in half for Charlie's use. The trailers were old, nearly ancient looking, the Christmas lights doing little to portray cheer. Jeep couldn't recall them ever moving since they were first stopped there back when he was a child.

The Mojave Desert surrounded them completely, no other sign of life for nearly eighty kilometers in any direction. The predawn light was just bright enough that he could see comfortably around him. Hands stuffed into his oversized coat, he shuffled quietly towards the diner his father owned, the glowing sign bathing him in a green light. He gazed at the backward sign, **'PARADISE FALLS'**. A sort of anger and dread crept upon him, but he pushed it down quickly.

"You okay, Jeep?" The feminine voice distracted him, pulling him from his musing. He turned quickly, taking in Charlie's heavily pregnant form as she stood in the other doorway to the trailer. Jeep always thought she was strikingly beautiful.

"Sorry I woke you, Charlie," he mumbled, walking over to her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stepped out onto the dry land.

"Yeah, wasn't you," she replied, hand stroking her protruding belly as she wrapped the blanket tighter around you. "He's been kicken' up a storm all night. Must know somethin' I don't."

She sat heavily on one of the swings, Jeep sitting on the other facing in the opposite direction. Silence surrounded them for a moment before she took in Jeep's tired posture and the strain around his eyes. "Another bad dream?" Charlie asked him softly, watching as he struggled internally for a moment before nodding his head slowly. "It's just stress, Jeep, that's all. You do too much worryin'. About this place, about your dad…" a beat of silence, a long pause, "…'bout me."

There was a glimmer of a smile across his face as he turned his gaze back to her briefly before they settled on the ground once more. "You're the only thing I like to worry about."

She smiled, giving a halfhearted laugh. "See what I mean? You're worried about a girl eight months pregnant and it isn't even your baby. Now that's enough to give anybody nightmares."

Jeep turned away from her, not wanting to see the rejection on her face. "Go ahead an' make fun of me. Everybody else does."

"C'mon," she mumbled turning back to him. "You know how much I appreciate everything that you and Bob are doin' for me." Charlie turned away, swallowing thickly as she gazed out into the vast landscape. "But a month from now, the baby will have a new family…and I'll have to start thinkin' 'bout what the hell I'm goin' to do with my life."  
He shifted uncomfortably, unhappy with what he was hearing. "So you're still goin' through with it?"

She turned to him quickly, gazing into his eyes as he turned away uncomfortably. "I'm not ready to be a mama. Christ, I can barely take care of myself as it is." Charlie dug her feet into the dry dirt, swaying softly on the swing as it rocked back and forth.

"I could help ya," Jeep turned to her, sounding both hopeful and desperate. "I mean, we could do it together, you know? I want to."

Charlie smiled sadly at him, touched by his sincerity, but knowing that it would just destroy them both in the end. "You gotta stop carryin' the weight of the world on your shoulders, Jeep," he turned away, nodding slowly as he tried to hide how much it hurt him when she refused his help.

Charlie stood up, rubbing her arms as she waddled past him. She stopped only briefly to squeeze his shoulder, and then she was gone, back inside the trailer. Jeep sat there a while longer, staring sadly at the ground as the empty swing squeaked loudly from where it swayed next to him.


	3. The Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You see where I'm at right now? Can my condition really get any worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The reason angels can fly is because they take themselves lightly." 
> 
> \- G.K. Chesterton

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:51 a.m.**

The condensation built up around the glass of ice water, the heat slowly melting it. A drop collected, sliding down the side of the glass, pulling more water to it as it continued its journey. It came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the cup where a ring of water was already forming.

Harry lifted his finger, tracing the path the droplet had taken, feeling the cold sink into his skin. He stared at the wet patch for a moment before he wiped his hand off and continued to push the eggs around on his plate, trying to convince himself to eat more. It was a losing battle.

Eight years…eight years he had been here, in this _other_ Earth. Waking up wandless in an abandoned building after he had stepped out of the Veil was not what he was expecting. Honestly, he hadn't expected to wake up at all. With an absent wave of his hand, quick tempus and location charm later, the confusion began to set in.

The spell revealed that it was only a few hours after his unwilling jaunt through the arch. It also showed that he hadn't moved…not an inch. He was in the Department of Mysteries, in the room of Death. Except he wasn't. Harry was in a warehouse stocked full of muggle boxes bigger than he was. Needless to say, he left quickly.

Two years later, after searching everywhere, revealed no Hogwarts, no Hogsmeade, no Diagon Alley…no Wizarding World. There was nothing, it was just gone. All of it…well, not quite.

A week after awaking in the strange world Harry noticed something odd. He had an extra tattoo he couldn't recall acquiring. The Hungarian Horntail was the only tattoo he had decided to get. It was a spur of the moment thing when he was sixteen.

A jaunt into a poorly lit parlor in Knockturn Alley and twenty Galleons later, he had a beautiful recreation of the dragon he had out flown in the Triwizard Tournament. The tattoo seemed to even have the same personality as well. It could usually be found in its favored place on his shoulder blade, occasionally moving to his lower back or side, and sometimes if it was feeling coy: his deltoid. But he never recalled getting a tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

It took Harry several days to remember where he had seen the symbol before, a circle bisected by a straight line, surrounded by a triangle. It was the mark of the Deathly Hallows…and it was branded on his wrist.

Harry had gazed at his wrist for hours, confused and annoyed, before he put it in the back of his mind, forgetting it entirely within several months. He had far more important things to figure out anyways, like money, food, shelter. The once Boy-Who-Lived had been dropped penniless, wandless, and clueless into this new place. He needed a plan.

First, he had tried searching for the Ministry, hoping that they could help him. When that turned up nothing, he tried for Diagon Alley. A month later and Harry was forced to move on as the Leaky Cauldron was nowhere to be found. His last stop had been Hogwarts. The journey and search lasted for nearly a year, before he admitted defeat. It was gone, all of it, like it never was at all.

The only reminder of what had been was his magic, still teeming beneath his skin. Harry had only done the simplest of magic without a wand, unfamiliar with it when casting wandless. The magic though had responded immediately and playfully. The first time he had cast magic in this _other_ Earth, he had felt a curious feeling directed to him. It wasn't until he had attempted a complicated warding that it became obvious. It was the magic of the _other_.

It probed at him, curious, childlike, and inquisitive. Two years in this _other_ Earth and he got his first taste of its magic. It poked and prodded, pulling uncomfortably as it tried to dissect him like some alien creature…but for all intents and purposes he was. Harry allowed the examination tolerantly until it became painful and the magic of _his_ Earth, the same but not quite, lashed out, shoving the _other_ away like a persistent puppy.

The _other_ retreated, confused and chastised, and for days Harry felt guilty. Finally he gave in, finding a quiet place to meditate; he reached out to the _other_. It took a while, but he was able to coax it out from where it had been hiding. He accepted it back, and properly reprimanded, it didn't try to yank, pull, and tear at him again.

It took months for the _other_ to finally consent to his presence. After that it became like a tenacious child, full of questions. For a being that had no known language, it figured out how to communicate well enough, mostly through pictures and images that were pulled from his mind. It wanted to know about everything: his Earth, its creatures, its people. The _other_ was fascinated by the great flying reptiles that breathed fire and the humans that could change things with their will alone.

It took Harry a while to discover how to answer in a way that the _other_ could understand. But he eventually figured it out by projecting feelings, emotions, images, and focusing on intent.

After a while it became easy to understand the _other_ and it was constantly prodding at the edge of his consciousness, stroking along his magical core, as if to check to make sure he was still there. When he had his first success in communication Harry had asked about Sirius, his dogfather…but the _other_ hadn't understood. From the impressions he had gotten, the _other_ had never encountered a being like him, which meant that if Sirius had been transported through dimensions like Harry had, then it definitely wasn't this one.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The _other_ was the reason why he was here, in the middle of the desert in the pressing heat. He had been sleeping peacefully last night in a small motel room in Rio de Janeiro, when the _other_ had woken him abruptly in a panic.

Harry hadn't been able to understand what was happening, but he was able to work out that the _other_ was scared. Something terrible was about to happen because He was angry. Harry had no idea who _He_ was, but he had gotten up and started packing immediately.

After he had gotten into his beat up little pickup truck, the _other_ pulled at him so hard it left him breathless. Taking the hint, he forced a massive disapparition, transporting his vehicle and all, to somewhere outside Glendale, Arizona. Following the insistent feeling of the _other_ , he drove north for seven hours before the feeling stopped and he found himself parked outside a petrol station that dueled as a diner. Something big was about to happen, and Harry wasn't certain if he wanted to be there, but the _other_ projected importance upon him. So, he had decided to stay to see what happened.

Harry was pulled from abruptly from his thoughts as a loud banging made him jump, turning to look at the older man thumping the side of the old television to make the picture work. It didn't work as planned; instead the screen became even fuzzier.

"Lord as my witness, Bob," the cook, a one-handed war veteran, turned to the owner of the diner with a soft smile his face as he watched the man flip his lighter on and off in an unconscious habit. "One of these days that thing's gonna hit you back."

Bob didn't face the older man, choosing to whack at the TV again. "Whaddya talkin' 'bout, Percy? We got a special relationship here."

"Yeah, they got names for that kind a relationship."

Harry chuckled softly to himself as he turned back to his now warm water. He reached for it, grabbing the glass and bringing it to his lips. Seconds before the action was completed, he felt a chill race down his arm and smiled in satisfaction as ice cold water met his parched throat. Out of all the things that had happened to him, this was the one he liked the most, the ability to perform magic without a wand.

When he had defeated Voldemort and became master of all the Deathly Hallows, Harry hadn't wanted that kind of power or responsibility. Instead he had left the stone of resurrection lost in the forest, the wand snapped and thrown in the river, and the invisibility cloak tucked safely away at the bottom of the trunk. It was truly a shame that the Deathly Hallows didn't seem to care. Apparently you couldn't stop being their master, even if you wanted to.

From what he was able to discover from his shoddy memories and his core, the Hallows were _inside_ him. He couldn't make them manifest, probably their way of keeping him from 'misplacing' them again, but that didn't seem to matter. With a snap of his fingers he could make himself invisible, with a wave of his hand he could perform magic of the caliber he hadn't even known he could do before, and with just a thought, he could bring someone back from the precipice of death.

"You want anything else, kid?" The cook asked him, southern drawl rolling off his accent.

Harry frowned only slightly as he shook his head in a negative. And there was the other shoe. The one thing he hated most. Harry was officially thirty as of late July, thirty years old and he still looked like a teenager. Back in _his_ Earth, he had noticed in passing that everyone was aging, and he still looked rather young, but he hadn't put any thought into it. Now, eight years later, he looked not a day older than when he had unknowingly brought all the Hallows together for the first time.

He looked seventeen…and that just pissed him off.

"Audrey, honey?" An older white man, probably only a few years older than Harry himself, shouted from across the diner. "Your mother was wondering if you got dressed this morning with the specific intention of showing your ass off to the entire world?"

Silence rang loudly around the room and Harry noticed that it wasn't only his attention that was pulled to the young woman, probably only sixteen, swaying seductively in front of the jukebox. She was wearing a laced corset tank top that stopped just under her belly button and a mini skirt so short that Harry was sure that if she bent over any more, he would see her underwear.

They all watched as she turned to the man in the booth, a sardonic smile flitting across her glossed lips. "Yeah, that's 'cause I woke up hoping to get double teamed by a couple of meth head truckers in the bathroom of some desert shithole." Her face twisted into mocking exuberance. "It's a good thing we got stuck here."

Harry turned back to his drink, smothering a dark chuckle as Percy watched the exchange discreetly from behind the counter. The wizard could tell that the other man was highly amused.

Howard turned back to his wife, raising an eyebrow as he smirked at her. "I feel satisfied with that answer. I really do."

His wife put her coffee down and buried her face in her hands as she shook her head back and forth in denial. She sounded as if she was about to cry. "I'm being punished for something, I know it."

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**Somewhere in Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**10:17 a.m.**

Kyle Williams nodded his head absent mindedly to the bass thumping music that was playing out of his speakers. The road ahead continued for miles, the vast barren landscape seeming to have no end. Tapping his fingers on the wheel to the beat, he flicked his cigarette out the open window before he grabbed his phone.

"Shit," he mumbled, waving it around trying to find a signal. Frustrated, he threw it on the passenger seat before a passing sign caught his eye. It was old and weathered, but still legible. "Next service in fifty miles…" he opened the map that was in the glove box. "Fifty miles?"

Kyle draped it over his wheel, trying to find where he was before he gave up and pulled off into the gas station. He rolled to a stop a little away from the pumps and got out, looking around at the desolate landscape. It seemed to be a place that time had just forgotten, everything old and rusted, the style having stepped out of the sixties. There was a mechanic's bay attached to the diner, rusty car parts littering the ground, grease staining the sand below.

A payphone on the side of the building drew his attention and he wandered over. A heavily pregnant woman stood by it, wearing a worn uniform and smoking a cigarette. "Merry Christmas," he greeted, hands in his jacket pockets as he strolled closer.

The woman exhaled a stream of smoke as the cigarette left her lips. "What's so merry about it?" She took another drag.

"You know," Kyle began, halting a few paces away. "That shit ain't good for the baby."

She smiled at him sarcastically. "Guess I should think 'bout quittin' then."

He glanced around, bouncing on his heels awkwardly. "Before you quit, can I get one from you?"

"You can buy a whole pack inside," she turned to him, gesturing to the building she was leaning against.

Kyle shifted, smiling briefly at her. "How 'bout I get one from you and I give you two from the pack you're gonna sell me."

She considered him for a moment, smiling at him when he made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. Chuckling softly, Charlie reached into her pocket, pulling out the pack and fetching a cigarette for him. When she handed it to him, he pulled out his crumpled map. "You know what, I'm kinda lost. Am I right here?" He pointed and she leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.

Charlie chuckled at him, shaking her head. "Not even close."

"Sonuvabitch," he mumbled as Charlie resumed her position, leaning against the wall. He stuffed the map back into his pocket before he examined the payphone. "Well, there any phones here that work?"

"Bob'll probably let you use the diner phone if you ask him real nice…maybe pay him a little somthin'." She added; southern drawl thickening.

"I think I can handle that," Kyle said softly, watching as Charlie took another drag from her stick. "You got anything in there to eat? Pancakes or…"

"Yup, we got a buttermilk stack for three seventy-five. French toast for four dollars if you're into that. I personally like the pancakes though."

She wasn't quite flirting, but it was close. Before anything could come of it though, Jeep interrupted them. "You okay, Charlie?" He asked.

Charlie and Kyle turned to the other man, the pregnant woman quickly hiding the cigarette. They both knew she was caught but Jeep chose to ignore it. The younger man was covered in grease and dirt, carrying something, but they were too far away to tell what. "Yeah, I'm fine. This guy's just lost," she gestured to Kyle.

Jeep nodded at her, uncertain. He eyed Kyle for a moment before he shuffled along back into the mechanic's bay. After an awkward beat, Charlie brought the cigarette from behind her back and finished it. "Who was that?" Kyle asked, eyes shifting to the young woman.

Charlie just took a long drag.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**10:32 a.m.**

Harry watched as the young teen, Audrey, played with her food idly, the fries on her plate a mush pile. Her parents argued from the booth a little away from their daughter, not as quiet as they thought they were being. "…every time we drive!"

"What!" Howard snapped; hands splayed on the table. "What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to him!" She grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer, squeezing a large dollop into her husband's palm angrily. "Things should have been ready two goddamn hours ago."

Howard rubbed the sanitizer between his hands, annoyed and frustrated. Harry thought that his wife was rather high maintenance and couldn't understand how he put up with her. No wonder their daughter rebelled. "It hasn't been two hours," the husband mumbled as the door chimed behind him.

The wizard turned on his stool, watching as Charlie returned from her break smelling like she had just smoked a fag. A rather tall black man entered behind her, looking very thuggish in his worn loose clothes and cap. Harry let his eyes linger on the other male, before he dismissed him as trivial. Man was all talk and no game.

Harry watched in amusement as Audrey's eyes lit up and she seemed to ooze sex at the man, smiling coquettishly. The thuggish man gazed at her before the glare of the older woman and her husband distracted him. Harry tried not to laugh at the look of horror the couple was trying to hide. It was like every parents worse nightmare.

"I hope Salem Lights are all right, 'cause that's all we got left," Charlie reached under the register, pulling a pack out and nearly slapping it on the counter.

The newcomer handed her the money quickly and she rang him up. "Charlie, where you've been?" Bob asked, walking behind Harry with a dirty towel on his shoulder and a pitcher of what was either some sort of red lemonade or punch. "It's not a resort; we've got orders stacking up."

Harry allowed his eyes to dart around, taking in the small diner, the three costumers aside from himself, and the small pathetic looking Christmas tree in the corner. Clearly the man just wanted to have a row with her. It was probably just his way of getting kicks.

Kyle opened the package, handing two cigarettes to Charlie; Harry saw that it did not go unnoticed by the owner of the diner. "You best not be smokin' again. Not in your condition."

"Bob," Charlie started; hand on her hip as Bob moved further into the kitchen. "You see where I'm at right now? Can my condition really get any worse?" Bob stopped wiping the counter to glance over his shoulder. "'Sides, you ain't one to talk," she added as an afterthought.

"What?" He turned to her, aggression in his voice but it seemed more put on than anything else. "I quit two years ago."

"Yeah?" Charlie questioned as Bob went into the back, behind the service counter and over to the sink. "So why you still carryin' that fancy lighter 'round then?"

"Gift from my ex-wife," he answered, hands on the counter between stacks of plates and bowls. "I'm sentimental…for when I want to remember how much I hate her guts."

"Hey, man, you got a phone I can use," Kyle asked still standing next to the cash register, a few seats away from Harry. The wizard took a drink of his water as Percy collected the remnants of his breakfast. He watched disinterested as Bob examined the man head to toe, clearly not impressed with what he saw. "My cell phone has no reception, and the phone booth outside is busted."

Before Bob could get the chance to answer, the older white male, Howard, approached and interrupted. "Excuse me; is there any news about when our car might be fixed? You said your boy would have us back on the road two hours ago. And I-I gotta say the rate we're goin, we'll be lucky to make it to Scottsdale by Christmas."

Bob sighed, turning to look at the floor as his jaw set in frustration.


	4. Emergency Broadcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speculations begin to run wild as an emergency broadcast begins to play and no answers are given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes what we believe as coincidence is really just getting ourselves caught in an angel booby trap."
> 
> \- Grey Livingston

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**10:46 a.m.**

Jeep took a clean cloth to the dirty crib, wiping the dust and dirt away carefully over the wooden carvings. On either side of the ancient crib was the depiction of an angel and he cleaned it with an disconcerting intensity in his eyes.

"Hey!" The snapped words came from behind him, pulling Jeep from his concentrated daze that he had fallen into. The young man froze, startled by the sudden appearance of his father. He turned reluctantly to the older man, knowing that he was in trouble. "Hood's up on this Beamer," Bob gestured to the Anderson's broken down SUV. "That mean anything to you?"

"Yeah…" Jeep replied, shifting in uncertainty.

Bob stomped over to him, frustrated. "What the hell are you workin' on that's so damn important you're not doin' your job?"

"Nothin'…" Jeep tried to feebly block his path, standing in front of the crib so his father couldn't see it, but it was too late. He sighed, knowing he had been caught. "Found it under a bunch of stuff in the storage shed. I know how you never like to throw anything away…"

"Whaddya doin?" Bob questioned him softly as he scrutinized his son.

"What?"

"Look, Jeep," He sighed rubbing a hand down his weary face. "I like Charlie, I do, and I think it's real nice you given' her help-"

"Leave me alone-" he cut him off, stomping past his father and out of the garage.

"-but she's not your responsibility. Hey!" Bob shouted, rushing after him. "Don't you walk away from while I'm talkin' to you!" A hand on his shoulder had Jeep spinning around, walking backwards as he held his own hands up in frustration.

Jeep continued to the gas pumps, but Bob wouldn't give up the argument. "How long gonna follow her around like a puppy dog? Cleanin' up the messes she makes while she steps out with every guy around here other than you?"

"Don't say that about her!" Jeep yelled, furious, as he rounded on his father, finally coming to halt just outside the shade of the filling station. "She's not like that!"

Bob gave his son a hard stare, disappointed and worried. He couldn't understand why Jeep didn't see what was really going on. The silence stretched for several long seconds before Jeep broke eye contact, shaking his head as his voice lowered into a tone less aggressive. "Look, I know it don't make any sense to you. Sometimes it don't make much sense to me either. I've been having these dreams about her. Some of them so bad…I wish I'd never have to sleep again. I can't explain it, dad, I just feel like it's somethin' I have to do."

Bob sighed, feeling pity and understanding for his boy. "You know your mother thought I was crazy for wanting to by this place. Moving us all the way up here, in the middle of nowhere…but I just knew it was something I had to do. I couldn't explain it either, just like you. I told your mother: 'Trust me. You just wait and see when they build that mall out there on nine with all the superstores like they've been plannin' on for years; this place is going to be a goldmine.' Only problem was: I was wrong."

He gazed into his son's eyes, trying to will him to understand and accept, like he had long ago. "They went and built the whole damn thing in Mesa County and I looked pretty damn stupid! And I see you making the same damn mistake I made. Believing in somethin' that's never gonna happen," Bob moved closer, gripping Jeep's shoulder tightly as his voice lowered.

"Now you listen to me, son. It's time for you to leave here. I don't want to see you wake up one day old and pissed off, realizing you're lost…just like everybody else who stops here," Bob trailed off, and gave Jeep a moment to process the words. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was the truth. After a moment, he moved his hand to palm his son's cheek and he turned away, heading back to the diner. "Now go on. Fix the car. I want these people out of here by nightfall."

Jeep watched solemnly as his father made his way back into the diner, the crunching of the gravel loud beneath his boots. He stood there for a moment longer before he too turned to head inside, but something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. On the horizon were large dark clouds of the like he had never seen before, moving like a living wall. He shifted, turning to the north. The mountains were being overtaken by a colossal mass of darkness.

A storm was coming.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**10:51 a.m.**

Harry watched with mild interest as the door bells rang as the diner owner pushed them open. He seemed to shake slightly as if cold and Harry could feel his interest peek. Howard turned around; setting his fork down on his plate of banana pancakes and Bob addressed him before he could say anything.

"He's about this close to wrapping it up," Bob used his thumb and pointer finger to measure a smidgen. He moved further into the diner, stopping suddenly when the television caught his attention. Harry turned to look at the tube as well, curious as the screen was once again completely static.

Bob huffed in annoyance as he grabbed a nearby chair before climbing on it to examine his TV. "What is wrong with you today?"

Harry almost turned away in disinterest, but then he suddenly felt _other_ stoke along the core of his magic and the wizard snapped into awareness. He probed a question at the _other_ and in return he found only more confusion. It took him several minutes to ponder out the answer he had received.

"I told you to get the satellite TV, but you don't wanna listen," the cook spoke up from flipping another pancake.

Bob didn't even turn to him. "What the hell do I need that crap for?"

"History Channel, man!"

He didn't quite sigh as he gave the television a good thump on the side. "I got all the history I can take."

Harry raked a hand through his shaggy hair, the black locks a little longer than he liked, curling in all directions just passed his ear. He made the mental note to get it cut soon as he listened to the people in the diner converse. _They_ were coming… _It_ had started.

Scrunching his face in confusion, the Master of the Hallows idly cleaned his glasses on his rather worn shirt. He could have gotten his vision corrected a long time ago…should have if he was being honest with himself. But he just never got around to it. Everyone had always told him that his glasses were a weakness in battle, and Hermione had taught him a nifty charm to temporarily grant him perfect vision…but Harry rather liked his glasses.

They were not the same glasses he had had all throughout Hogwarts, though the rims were of the same circular design. The frames were thinner than his original, still the same black color, but the lenses were special. They were spelled unbreakable, couldn't fog, and repelled water. They had the ability to see through most illusions, traces of magic became visible, and had a nifty zoom feature, much like a hawk.

Harry placed his glasses back on as Bob gave the television another bash and the screen finally snapped into focus. A loud, hollow high pitched tone filled the small diner and Harry found himself leaving his seat to get a better look at the screen. He wasn't the only one.

"See?" Bob turned to Charlie, looking smug. "Clear as day."

"What the hell's that?" Percy questioned loudly as Bob tucked the chair under the table. Harry could see the couple in the booth as they stopped arguing long enough to gaze in confusion and a little fear at the screen.

"It's just one of them test things…"

"Yeah…" Charlie moved next to Bob, holding her stomach in an unconscious gesture of self-comfort. "That don't look like a test."

Silence hung heavily around the room as the display continued its monotone note. The picture stated clearly: 'This is not a test' and looked like it was supposed to be some sort of emergency broadcast…except where was the broadcast?

"Hey man," the thuggish newcomer's Detroit accent cut through the fog of unease. "I need to use your phone."

Bob stared at him, only giving in when Kyle held a ten dollar bill up. The owner snatched it before gesturing to his office. "In the back, past the kitchen."

"Excuse me," Sandra's voice cut in as everyone stared uncertainly at the screen. "But if this were an actual emergency wouldn't they be giving us instructions on what to do?"

Harry turned his gaze to those in the diner, watching with a slow building of trepidation as _other_ danced nervously around his core. It seemed to pulse between wanting to stay and desperately wishing to flee. "Hey, Percy," Bob's southern drawl pulled Harry from his internal examination. "Check out that old radio of yours, see if there's any news about the TV."

The older dark skinned man turned away, walking over to an ancient batter powered radio on the kitchen shelf. He turned the switch and only static came through. Wrinkling his brows in confusion, Percy was positive it was left on the sports channel; he turned to the dial hoping to find the news. He found several clear stations as he turned the nob, but they all played the same hollow tone of the emergency broadcast.

The dual tone of the resonating note overwhelmed the silence. Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise as his magic prickled anxiously beneath his skin. He sent out an enquiring probe…but the _other_ had fled.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**11:04 a.m.**

"Eleven a.m. tomorrow at courthouse…I know, I'll be there," Kyle assured as he reclined in the chair. The office he found himself in was small and cramped, filled with paperwork and clutter. The phone was ancient, like everything else in the diner, but it still worked and that was all that mattered.

"Put my little man on the phone," he leaned forward onto his elbows in frustration as his ex-wife replied to him. "'Cause a father is supposed to be able to talk to his son, that's why…I don't care what your lawyer said, I got my own lawyer, now put him on the god damn phone!"

There was a moment of silence before she replied, but Kyle couldn't make out what she said. "Hello? Your phone is breaking up, do you hear-hello, hello?"

He stared at the olive green phone in confusion and annoyance. Slamming it on the receiver, he cursed quietly, tearing his beanie off his bald head before grabbing the phone again. There was no dial tone. He tried pressing several buttons…nothing. The line was dead.

O0O~O0O~Page~Break~O0O~O0O

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**11:10 a.m.**

"Maybe there was an earthquake?" Howard questioned. Harry watched the people in the room move about as if they were caged animals on display at the zoo. They were all moving restlessly, agitation lining there posture, bristling at the unknown, but unable to do anything about it. "They keep sayin' we're overdue for a big one."

"Lot a people could be hurt," Percy mumbled as he topped off the businessman's coffee before silently gesturing if Harry wanted any as well. The wizard shook his head at the mute question.

"Not if it was centered in the desert," Bob added, pacing along the tables.

"Exactly," Howard added, grabbing his mug and moving to the booth to join his wife. "Could be nothing to worry about-"

His wife cut in. "So then why's the TV out?"

"Maybe it was terrorists…" Audrey commented blithely as she sauntered back to her own table.

Sandra watched her daughter, face palling as she sat heavily in her seat. "Oh God…"

"Oh for cryin' out loud," Bob snapped as Harry hid his grin of amusement behind the mug of tea Percy handed to him. The deceptively young looking man turned around in his barstool, elbows resting on the counter behind him, in order to scrutinize everyone in the room. "There's no use speculatin'. Look, I'll just call my brother up in Needles, he'll probably know somethin'."

"I don't think so," the thuggish man entered from the back room near silent, startling many in the room.

"What do you mean?" The owner questioned, not quite hostile but definitely bordering it.

Kyle came around the counter, pushing the waist high swinging door, before coming to a stop a little in front of Harry. "I was just on the phone, the shit cut out in the middle of my conversation…I want my money back."

"This is perfect," Sandra blurted out, slamming her mug onto the scarred table. She sounded near hysterics. "Absolutely perfect!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bob threw up his hands in a placating manner, the TV above him near muted but the multicolored distress signal a bitter reminder of the situation. "Everybody, simmer down!" He turned, slapping his hand on the power button of the television, and the screen promptly turned black, the silence loud with the absence of the hallow tone. "There's nothing to get excited about, they're probably just workin' on the lines. 'Sides, Jeep's going to have your car fixed in a jiffy and then you'll be on your way, so…"

Howard nodded his head slowly, mumbling a quiet affirmative as Harry blew on his hot tea to cool it down.

 


	5. The First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said your fucking baby's gonna burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I have been on the verge of being an angel all my life, but it's never happened yet."

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**11:17 a.m.**

His hands gripped the counter tightly as the feeling of wrongness came over him. Sweat began to bead down the side of his face and his arms trembled as he tried to adjust. Harry took a deep breath, desperately attempting to calm himself. His skin felt like there was something crawling underneath it and he didn't know if he wanted to claw his own flesh off or take a scalding hot shower to burn it off instead.

He gripped the counter top harder, fighting against the urge to tear at himself until the shuddering, disgusting feeling of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ left him. But it didn't, every passing second it became stronger until the urge was nearly unbearable. Gripping his eyes tightly shut, he concentrated. Reaching for the _other_ , he searched for answers, but the _other_ was long gone, sequestering itself far, far away. Harry couldn't find it, and without it there were no answers.

The feeling started to slowly recede as the young immortal fought for control of his mind, pushing the _wrong_ away until it became just a small itch. Hands relaxed from their white knuckle death grip, Harry slowed his breathing down as the urge to claw, rip, and tear away his own skin left him.

Emerald green eyes darted around the small diner, searching for what had caused the sensation, but nothing caught his eye. Everybody else in the diner seemed oblivious to his internal plight, and Harry shuddered as he tried to erase the impression that the wrongness had left on him. His attention was pulled elsewhere though when the bell on the door jingled loudly. An old woman pushed it open, the clacking of her walker on the linoleum floor temporarily drowned out the jazzy Christmas music.

The second she had passed the threshold Harry felt his insides go cold and the hair on the back of his neck and arms rose. He turned slowly, trying to remain inconspicuous as he gazed at her through his long bangs. She seemed normal enough, possibly in her late eighties, early nineties. She wore a pink knitted sweater over a blouse and loose dress pants.

The woman looked frail, innocent, and kind…but Harry found his magic moving agitatedly under his skin, the feeling of foreboding nearly overwhelming him. And suddenly he knew, as he gazed at the old lady. The feeling of _wrong_ came from her. His fingers twitched for his wand before he remembered he no longer had one. Harry was unsure if he wanted to flee or hex her. Instead he shifted uncomfortably on his stool.

Her eyes roved around the diner, taking in the occupants, a smile gracing her lips. It left Harry feeling uneasy and dirty. He jerked back around to the counter before she spotted him staring. His very instincts fought him for turning his back on a threat, but he couldn't let her suspect anything about him, it was too dangerous.

"Have a seat wherever you want, Ma'am. Specials are on the board," Charlie informed her as she went behind the counter to fill the pitcher with ice water. Harry couldn't resist staring at her in disbelief as she carried out her normal duties. Did nobody sense the wrongness that the old woman was projecting, could nobody feel it?

"Thank you, dear."

Muggles, his mind supplied. They were all just muggles; they ignored what they couldn't define. They may have felt uneasy, but quickly brushed it off because they saw no reason for such a reaction. Instead they saw a kind elderly woman who seemed to have hip problems and a sunny disposition.

His friends would have been able to point out the strangeness. Hermione would have already been nose deep in a book trying to figure out what could produce such a peculiar reaction, and Ron would have blurted it out loudly to the whole diner. Hermione would then probably hit him while commenting on discrepancy and then Ron would pout and Harry would laugh. But not anymore, his friends were impossible to reach and further than the stars themselves. Harry felt a moment of home sickness, but he pushed it aside quickly. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

His eyes fell on the counter. The napkin dispenser was the kind found in most fast food places and rundown diners. It was a shiny metal, standing upright and the distributor facing him. He poked it, twisting it this way and that. For all intents and purposes he looked like a bored teenager with ADD. But there was a method to his madness. Seconds later he had the napkin dispenser in the perfect position, and the shiny metallic surface easily reflected the old woman sitting behind and to the right of him. The reflection was distorted, but it would do.

Harry watched with trepidation as the pregnant Charlie approached the elderly lady, a menu in hand. Before she could hand it over though, the action was interrupted. "I already know what I want."

"Okay," Charlie smiled at her, pulling out her booklet and pen. "What'll it be?"

"I'll have a steak, please," her arthritic hands were crossed primly on the table.

Charlie jotted down the order as the old lady smiled up at her. "And how'd you like that cooked?"

"Rare if you would. And water with no ice."

"Coming right up," she replied, turning to leave.

The elderly woman leaned forward, sharp eyes taking in the name tag. "Charlie, is it?"

Charlie turned back to her quickly, forcing a smile on her face. "…Yeah."

"What an unusual name for a girl."

Charlie almost laughed as she turned back to the kitchen. "So they say. I'll be right back with your water."

Harry smelled smoke and lilacs as Charlie swept past him. His eyes darted to the waitress but her stance reassured him that there was nothing wrong other than her feet were probably killing her. "Hello," the old woman didn't quite shout and Harry pulled his attention back to the threat. "I'm Gladys, Gladys Foster."

Honestly Harry was unsure about what to do. His mind was telling him that she was just an old harmless lady, but his magic, his _instincts_ , honed in war, battle, and betrayal said otherwise.

"Oh, hello, Gladys. It's so nice to meet you," the woman in the booth across from her replied brightly. "I'm Sandra and this is my husband, Howard."

"What a nice looking young couple," Gladys commented as Charlie set her glass of water, no ice, down on the table and moved back to the kitchen. Sandra and Howard both chuckled good-naturedly, but Harry felt a chill go down his spine. "What brings you up to these parts?"

"We're on our way to Scottsdale. But our car broke down," Sandra's eyes slid over to her husbands in mock amusement. Howard couldn't have contained rolling his eyes even if he had tried. She acted like it was his fault the car broke down. "And we're stuck here while it's getting fixed."

Gladys shook her head and hummed to herself. "Oh, what a nuisance."

"Say, Gladys," Sandra cut in. "The lines seem to be down around here. You know the phone and the TV," she gestured with her reading glasses. "And I was just wondering if you might have heard something on your way up? You know, about what's going on?"

Everyone seemed to turn to her in curiosity, a fly buzzing about unnoticed above her head. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that, sweetheart. It'll all be over soon."

An icy hand gripped Harry's heart and his magic surged to his fingertips, sparking like electricity before he was able to get it under control. Sandra nodded at the old woman, seemingly unsure of what to make of the response, but Harry saw it for the threat it was. He probed again for the _other_ but there still was no response. Once again, he was on his own, completely clueless and way in over his head. He cursed his rotten luck, wondering what he let himself get into this time.

The door chimed again as the owner's son entered into the diner, a swirl of desert heat following him before the air-conditioning returned the room to a cool seventy-four degree fahrenheit standard. "Excuse me," Howard tried to draw his attention but the boy's mind was elsewhere as he went ignored. Harry watched his progress through the diner to the kitchen where he met up with his father.

The two spoke in hushed tones, but with a quick eavesdropping spell courtesy of Weasly's Wizarding Wheezes, Harry was able to successfully divide his attention between the two men and 'Gladys'. "So, what are we looking at?"

"I don't know," Jeep's southern accent thickened as his eyes darted around to the Anderson's. "There's probably something wrong with the computer, but we don't have the gear to test it here."

"Ah, shit," Bob mumbled, hands on his hips as his eyes turned to down to the floor. "They're gonna be pissed."

Jeep imitated his father's posture. "Just tell'em we'll call and have it towed to one of those dealerships down in Harding."

"We'll that's not gonna happen. The phone's out."

Silence permeated the backroom for several seconds before Jeep spoke again. "What?" He whispered, disbelief coloring his words.

Smoke and lilacs drew him away again as Charlie walked by with a steak that looked like it had only been defrosted. "Thank you, dear," Gladys chirped as the plate was set down in front of her. "How far along are you?"

Charlie rested a hand on her stomach, stroking it idly. "Oh, just about there."

"The father must be very proud."

"I wouldn't know."

Gladys' face seemed to fall. "He's…" she trailed off as if unsure how to finish.

Charlie shrugged, rueful smile gracing her lips. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"I see," the old woman nodded her head slowly. Harry watched as Charlie reached down and waved her hand over the steak. He couldn't see the flies in the reflection on the dispenser, but he could hear them. "So I take it you're not married?"

"No."

Gladys sighed, grabbing her silverware. "That's too bad."

"No," Charlie replied, hands on her hips as she chatted with Gladys. "I prefer it that way. I don't need a man telling me what to do."

Gladys chuckled, leaning forward slightly as she gazed up at the young waitress. "But what about the baby?"

"I got it under control."

"But it's gonna burn."

Charlie went silent, face frozen as she tried to process the words. "What did you just say?"

Gladys smiled at her. "I said your fucking baby's gonna burn."

Silence filled the diner as the words registered to those listening. Harry stood slowly from his seat, Kyle who was sitting a few stools down turned as well. Charlie sneered at her, shaking her head. "Go to hell, lady," she bit out as she slammed the check down and stomped back to the kitchen. Harry took several steps forward, standing nearly abreast with the black man.

"Fucking Jesus Freak!" Charlie mumbled as she passed the still conversing two men.

"What happened?" Bob asked. Jeep shifted to look around his father while Gladys began to laugh innocently as she devoured her barely cooked steak, flies buzzing all about her.

"All those little babies are gonna burn," she laughed, red juice dripping down her chin.

"Whoa, whoa," Percy mumbled, moving around from behind the counter to stand next to Bob and Jeep as they left the back room.

"Uh…" Sandra smiled awkwardly, trying to defuse the situation. "Gladys-"

The old woman slammed her knife into her steak, snapping around to her. "Shut up, you stupid fucking cunt! All you do is complain, complain, complain!"

Shock resonated around the diner, and Harry shuffled forwards a few more steps, uncertainty surrounding him. He heard the voice, the strange double cadence with the hollow echo. But everyone else seemed to only hear the words. This wasn't right, something was terribly, terribly wrong. His magic fought him, desperately trying to get free, to do _something_ , and Harry fought just as hard to get it under control.

"What!" Howard shouted in disbelief, quickly standing from his booth. "What?!"

"No Howard," Sandra tried to stop him, reaching for an arm that was quickly jerked away.

"What did you just say?!" He continued, ignoring his wife's pleadings behind him. "No, no, no. I don't know who you think you are," he strode toward her, placing his hands on the table. Harry hurried after him, moving quickly around the furniture. "But I want you to apologize to my wife ri-"

Gladys lunged at him, teeth suddenly razor sharp as she sunk them into the man's neck. Howard screamed and Harry rushed forwards, catching the man as he fell backwards. Gladys ripped herself from him, turning to spit out the chunk of flesh she had in her mouth. "Howard!" Sandra screamed, too shocked to move. Audrey shrieked and Kyle froze in astonishment before propelling himself from the stool.

Harry's hands were already covered in blood as he tried to stem the flow, ripping off his t-shirt to press to the wound. Beneath him, Howard choked and his body seized in shock. Magic was already racing to his hands to mend the damage, but halfway through it turned defensive and he erected a temporary shield as Gladys flipped the table and a chair almost hit them.

"You're all gonna fucking die!" The lady screamed, the double cadence was heard by everyone this time, and they stared in horror at her. Blood was dripping down her chin, shark teeth bared at them, completely black eyes taking in their fearful forms.

Percy turned and grabbed the cast iron frying pan, throwing it at the woman. His aim was dead on, the pan smacking her right in the face, jerking her head around and snapping her neck. Impossibly, she straightened. Cheek split and bone protruding, her jaw dropped and an inhuman shriek left her. Bob lunged for the gun behind the counter and Audrey dived for the floor as the elderly woman launched herself on the wall above her, before scrambling for the ceiling.

Harry was torn as his fingers became slick with blood. His eyes were riveted on the _thing_ , because whatever that was, it wasn't human. And it wasn't like anything he had ever heard of before. Howard lay still below him, chocking occasionally on the blood and Harry pressed the shirt into his neck harder.

'Gladys', if that was even her name, had bitten through the artery, and he needed to stem the blood flow now. But that would mean lowering his barrier, which he did not want to do. But he had to make a choice, to save the man's life, or risk him bleeding out and saving them both. He chose.

The magic rose quickly and obediently at his command, the invisible barrier dropping as he pressed his fingers into the wound. His core searched for the damaged arteries and he worked on sealing them off. All of his attention turned to Howard; he couldn't afford to split his focus. He only hoped the others could handle it.

Kyle watched as Gladys crawled on the ceiling, snarling down at them. "What the fuck, man?!" He shouted as Bob cocked his shotgun.

He fired twice, missing the old woman and blowing large holes in the ceiling. Jeep tripped over a several chairs as Gladys crawled nearer. Bob got one more shot off before Gladys dropped from the ceiling to land behind him. She smiled sweetly, all teeth and blood, before she backhanded him. The owner flew across the room, hitting several chairs and tables before coming to a stop as he hit the floor near the booths.

The shotgun slid across the ground, resting near Jeep and the young man stared at it before his gaze was captured by the old lady calmly approaching him from around the counter. He hesitated only a second before he snatched the gun up from the floor. Jeep took aim, hands shaking as he cocked the gun. "Shoot her, Jeep!" Percy shouted, frying basket in one hand.

Gladys gave a light chuckle, smiling sweetly at him. "You will never save her."

Jeep froze as an overwhelming fear paralyzed him. "Shoot the bitch!" Percy shouted and Jeep closed his eyes, finger hesitating over the trigger. "Shoot her!"

Her draw dropped impossibly far and she snarled, racing straight towards him. Her feet didn't move but her body seemed to just slide over the tiled floor. Jeep tried to shoot, but he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. Just before she reached him, gunshots rang out and three bullets lodged themselves in her back, killing her.

Jeep opened his eyes, stunned. He gazed down at the old woman as she slid to a stop. Trembling, he looked up and met the eyes of the shooter. Kyle held the 45 with both hands, dark brown eyes darting between the dead woman and his own gun as if he couldn't believe that he had just killed someone. The gun trembled.

For several seconds nobody moved, and then Sandra rushed to her husband's side. "Howard…no, no!" She screamed and she attempted to shove Harry out of the way but the boy wouldn't move. "Howard?!"

Harry's brow scrunched in annoyance. His concentration was broke and his magic quickly snapped back to his core, leaving him feeling both exhausted and restless. Sandra had interrupted the process before he could clamp off all the veins, but the worst of it was fixed. Perhaps it was a good thing seeing as if Howard was completely healed after having a chunk of his neck bitten off people would start to ask questions.

He turned to the wife who was becoming hysterical. "I need a first aid kit," Harry told her, trying to take her mind off of the terrible wound and the blood coating the tiled floor. If he couldn't heal him with magic, then Harry would just have to do it the old fashioned way.

"Somebody help me!" Sandra shouted, gaze caught on the blood coating her hand. "Somebody-"

Harry lifted one hand from where he was applying pressure and grabbed her arm forcefully. "Go find me a first aid kit! Now!"

Kyle lowered his gun before he rushed to the office. Seconds later he came back with a white box that had a red cross on it. Harry nodded to him gratefully before turning to Sandra. "I need you to keep pressure on his neck, I need to…" he trailed off as the woman kept mumbling and sobbing. "Sandra!" He yelled. That got her attention. "I need you to put pressure on his neck, right now, before he bleeds out!"

Shakily, she did as he commanded and Harry grabbed the first aid kit with blood soaked hands. He tore through the supplies, gathering what he needed quickly. Kyle stood stunned nearby, Jeep still standing over the dead woman, gun partially raised. In her booth, Audrey rocked herself back and forth. "Who the fuck was that old lady?!"

"It's okay, it's okay," Sandra sobbed as Harry quickly got to work sealing the wound.

"Charlie, call 911!" Bob shouted as blood dripped down onto Audrey's face. She wiped it away, turning to look at the ceiling. Blood dripped off of the ledge from where the old man must have shot her.

"Keep your eyes on the old lady!" Kyle shouted to Jeep as Sandra started to scream hysterically.

"Audrey!"

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**12:03 p.m.**

Audrey rushed out of the diner, her mother not far behind. Kyle and Percy supported Howard between them. They all raced to the Escalade and Harry hovered in the threshold of the diner, unsure of where he was needed most. He wanted to stay and examine the body, try to figure out what the hell that was in there, because this planet had no magic, not like in his world. This should have been impossible.

"Careful with him," Sandra begged as they started to load the injured man into the SUV. Seconds later Harry was there, pulling him in from the other side as Kyle ran to start up the car. It was loaded in less time than it took to blink.

Slamming down the accelerator, the Escalade swerved out onto the highway, and Harry helped Sandra rearrange the man until he could keep pressure on the wound. Audrey crawled over to them into the very back and her mother supported Howard's feet. The injured male was shaking and choking, and Harry felt his magic reacting before his conscious knowledge, soothing him and taking away some of the pain.

"How far is it to the hospital?" Sandra asked, desperate.

"How the hell did she do that?!" Audrey shouted, confused and desperate.

Her mother only shook her head. "I don't know," she said, repeating it like a mantra.

"Seventy, maybe eighty miles," Percy turned to look at her.

Silence followed his words before a despairing, "What?!" rushed out of Sandra's mouth.

"Eighty miles?!" Kyle asked as he pressed his foot down to go faster. "Look, I'm gonna get there as soon as I can, but I can't stay-"

"That's fine!" Sandra shouted. "Please drive fast!"

"Sandra," Harry cut in, hand reaching out to clasp her arm comfortingly. "He'll make it there, I've clamped off the wound."

Desperate calls and prayers were made as the vehicle speed entered the triple digits. Audrey looked up at the road briefly, but her eyes were captured by the ominous cloud in the distance. "What the hell is that?!"

Buzzing filled the air and Harry's eyes darted around in worry. "They're clouds! What do you think they are?" Kyle yelled as he continued to gain speed.

"Those aren't clouds," Harry said distractedly. "Clouds don't buzz!"

A loud hum was heard though the vents and a bug crawled its way out of the slates. Seconds later hundreds of bugs started to pelt the windshield. "Oh, my God!" Nobody was sure who had said it.

In the space from one heartbeat to another, they were cast into complete darkness as they drove straight into a swarm.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**12:49 p.m.**

Bob gazed at his reflection in the mirror, a cold can of beer pressed to the side of his face where that _thing_ had backhanded him. In the stall next to him his son kneeled on the dirty cement floor and heaved over the toilet.

"I can't believe she was still standin' after Percy hit her with that frying pan," he mumbled as Jeep came and rested against the wall, stomach empty. "He broke her fuckin' neck. I saw it. I swear I saw it."

He pulled the beer from his face before he took a drink. "Did'ya see the gun that guy had? What's a guy do with a gun like that?" Bob gazed at his son, but he wasn't paying attention. The kid was lost in his own world, trembling as he tried desperately not to be sick again. "Hey, Jeep. It's all right, son."

Jeep bit back a sob as his voice shook. "I couldn't pull the trigger. I froze," he whispered in shame. "I saw what I needed to do…I was too afraid. She would have killed you," he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. "She would have killed Charlie."

"Hey," Bob cut him off, turning and leaning in close to his son, one hand on his shoulder. "You ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of. You hear me, son?" Fingers tightened their grip, trying to offer comfort. "Not everybody can play the hero. Especially when it comes to pulling the trigger."

Jeep looked at, really looked, before he seemed to accept the words. Bob nodded solemnly to him before clapping him roughly. The sound of an approaching vehicle drew his attention away. He ran out of the diner, taking in the forms of people that had just left. Kyle, Sandra, and the young man Harry were supporting Howard between them while they raced back inside.

"What happened?" Bob shouted, as he took in their grave faces. "What happened!?" He grabbed Percy as he walked by. "What's goin' on?!"

Percy jerked back around, walking backwards to the diner. "I gotta get my bible!"

"What for?!"

"Somebody's gotta start prayin'!" Percy answered before he rushed inside. A strange noise took over the silence of the desert and Bob turned around slowly. He stood their dazed in shock at the swarm of what could only be bugs blacked out the sky. Bob turned and ran back inside.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:14 p.m.**

Harry crouched down and pulled the plastic sheeting away from the still body of the old woman. Kyle and Jeep stood above him, and Bob handed the thuggish man the shotgun as he kneeled down next to Harry. He examined the younger man beside him. He was young, definitely younger than his own son, possibly not even out of high school yet.

He was short but fit, muscles rippling. The boy's torso and hands were covered in dry blood, most likely from the injured Howard. Even the front of his jeans were caked. Bob didn't know how somebody could lose that much blood and live, but he was sure thankful for the kid. One of his parents must have been a doctor, because the kid seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

He saw a tattoo on his right shoulder blade, a terrifying dragon that looked to be crawling up to his shoulder. Another tattoo in his inner wrist, but Bob couldn't tell what they were since it was covered in blood. Bob wondered how somebody so young could get a tattoo, but his accent was European, so maybe they had different laws across the pond. Turning his attention back to the dead woman, Bob watched in morbid fascination as they young boy studied the body.

Harry reached forward and pulled the eyelids away from the eye, shining a flashlight at them, revealing the eye ball. "Eyes are black all the way around, no sign of pupil, iris, or sclera." He spoke as if reading from a text book and Bob admired him for that…his hands were still shaking. Fingers moved to pull lips away from teeth. "Gums are pink, and normal…teeth are not. They resemble some sort of predator, all sharp and pointed. Jaw is flexible" he added, pulling it down. The mouth opened further than possible. "And dislocated like a snake. Skin temperature is abnormally hot."

"How is that possible," Bob questioned as the boy rotated her head this way and that. "She's been dead for over an hour."

"Oh, she's been dead much longer than that," Harry commented. "Neck is broken in two places," he added distractedly. "No, this…this was some kind of possession."

"Possession?" Jeep questioned.

"Has to be," Harry told him, looking at the others. "See, look here," he pointed to her cheek and the skin around her neck, pressing fingers in and watching the reaction. "The way the blood is, this wound is fresh, but it happened postmortem."

"You mean she was dead before Percy broke her fuckin' neck with the frying pan?" Bob questioned.

Harry nodded slowly. "At least fifteen…maybe sixteen hours."

"Ah, shit."

"Somebody, or more likely, _something_ was just using her to hitch a ride."

"I don't give a fuck how long she's been dead," Kyle added as the boy continued his examination. "Bitch just walked on the ceiling…she ain't stayin' in here."

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:22 p.m.**

Bob struggled under the weight of the body. "The old bitch is heavy. Hold her up, Jeep!"

"I'm tryin'," Jeep panted out as he jogged just behind his dad, Kyle covering them with the shotgun.

"Where are the flies?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Kyle asked, running along next to them. "Are you askin' me to explain the behavior of a motherfuckin' pestilence?" They stopped near the car of the old woman and dropped her next to it. Kyle stopped walking, a glint of reflected metal in sunlight caught his attention. "Hey, somebody's comin'!"

The other two rushed over to him, eyes taking in the approaching car. "Now what?" Bob bit out, panting from the exertion. The car was approaching quickly, and the color scheme along with the lights on top designated it as a police car. "All right. Now we're talking."

"Wait a second," Jeep cut in, reading the side of the doors. "LAPD?"

Both of the men looked to Kyle and the thuggish man gazed between them before looking back at the car. "I'm from Vegas, man."

"Give me that gun," Bob demanded, and Kyle quickly complied before he took out his own hand gun. The car raced towards them, kicking up dust as it slid to a stop.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:25 p.m.**

Charlie gazed out the window trying to block the sounds of pain from behind her. Percy was holding down Howard while Harry poured whisky on the wound, trying to cleanse it. It wasn't ideal, and Harry would have much preferred to heal the wound completely, but with all the crazy shit going on the number of guns he decided not to chance it. His luck would have them shoot first and ask questions later. So he settled for backwater doctoring with scrounged supplies. What other choice did he have?

She watched as the three men ditched the body and covered her ears as Howard screamed. Seconds later her eyes fell upon the car in the distance. "Oh, thank God," she whispered, rushing outside, hand supporting her bulging stomach.

Charlie ran across the dirt and sand as the car door opened, before Jeep rushed towards her, shouting. "Charlie, wait!" A heartbeat later the other two men follow.

The man stepped out of the car slowly, gazing at the pregnant woman, tan trench coat billowing out behind him. He looked as if he was expecting her all along. Charlie lurched to a stop as Jeep ran up to her and the three men surround her, protective. Bob raised the shotgun.

"Take one more step and I'll drop you right there."

"Is that how you greet all your customers?" The man asked, strange accent rolling the words pleasantly.

"Mister," Bob continued, gun cocked and ready to fire. "After what we've been through you're lucky we don't shoot you first and greet you later. Now let me see them teeth." On any other day such a request would have been odd, but after the day they all just had…well. "Your teeth, goddamn it! Let me see 'em!"

The man gave them a dangerous smile, revealing a completely normal set of teeth. The others all relax slightly but Bob doesn't take the gun off of him. "No shark teeth, Pop."

"Okay, then," Bob continued as Charlie shifted uncomfortably behind him. "How 'bout you tell us your name?"

"Michael."

Bob straightened slowly, approaching the other man while he lowered the gun. "Sorry about that, Michael. We had this old lady in here who went crazy in my place. She had these teeth," he gestured to his mouth. "Never seen anythin' like it. Practically bit a man in half…what are you doin' out here anyway?" Michael turned to see the covered body lying by the car. "You don't look like any policeman I ever saw. Even one from LA…

"But he's gotta be, right?" He questioned turning to the ones behind him. "I mean, who the hell would be crazy enough to steal a cop car?" He laughed at his joke, but nobody responded. After a moment, he fell silent, anxiousness taking root.

"You don't know, do you?" Michael asked.

"Don't know what?" Kyle sneered at him, gun resting in the palm of his hand.

"We don't know anything," Charlie cut in, trying to break the tension. "Nothing works, the TV, the radio, the phone."

Michael shook his head slowly. "I'm running out of time," he moved towards Charlie with a purpose but Bob quickly blocked his path, bringing the shotgun back up to bare.

"Now, you just hold on there, fella!" Michael came to a stop half a foot from the barrel. "Now you better start talking, or you just get the hell outta here."

In the blink of an eye, the shotgun was snatched from his hands and Bob found himself staring down the double barrel of his own gun. Kyle raised his 45 over Bob's shoulder, flipping the safety off. "Hold on," he mumbled, hands steady even though his heart was racing.

Charlie and Jeep took a half a step forward, Bob's face twisting in fear. Michael, on the other hand was calm, expressionless, merciless. "Hey, Dad! Just tell him you're sorry!" Jeep begged, eyes still firmly fixed on the newcomer.

The words wouldn't come out, and Bob found himself unable to speak. He squeezed his eyes closed, terrified. "Hey, hey, hey!" Percy shouted, having seen the incident from inside. He rushed towards them, hand raised as if he could physically stop the other man from shooting his friend. "Hey, son! Now I'm sure you don't wanna go spilling blood for no good reason in front of all these decent people. Now…now what do you say 'bout just lettin' Bob go? Then you can be on your way, nice and easy."

The others waited with baited breath but Michael appeared to not have heard the other man's plea. His head cocked to the side, as if he was listening to something before he took one hand off of the pump. Finger still on the trigger, he turned around, gun steady. Michael turned his gaze down the road from which he had come.

"They're here," he spoke quietly, but everyone heard him. Bob's eyes snapped opened seconds before the gun was pulled away from him. Moments later it was pushed roughly into his stomach. "You're gonna need this."

"Wait," Charlie called as Michael turned and walked to the trunk of the police car. "Who's here?"

"More like her," he answered without turning around.

"What do ya mean, like her?" Kyle questioned.

Popping the trunk open, Michael grabbed several semi-automatic rifles, tossing them to Kyle, Percy, and Jeep. Jeep stared down at the gun in his arms, confused and anxious. "Hold on," Bob interjected. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Dad, I can handle it."

"He can handle it," Michael told him, grabbing the duffle bags and slamming the trunk shut. He walked between the two men, voice lowering as he addressed Jeep and his father. "He doesn't have a choice."

Michael stepped past them, handing the pregnant Charlie the glock in his hand. "Don't do anything brave."

Sandra and Audrey took hesitant steps outside, taking in the newcomer. "What's happening?"

Michael walked past them entering the small diner. "You better get back inside."

The others stood there for a few moments longer, taking in the empty road. "Come on, Jeep," Bob told him, turning to go inside. "Jeep, come on!" The others followed him.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:32 p.m.**

Harry had watched dispassionately as everyone went outside one by one, soon leaving him alone to tend to Howard. He pulled the needle through, tying off the knot before replacing the gauze on his neck with a clean one and taping it before he wrapped it for extra support.

Thankfully the man had passed out several minutes before Percy left in hurry. Sandra and Audrey soon followed, completely forgetting about their family member. Harry snorted in dark amusement. People these days…

Whatever had garnered so much attention had better been worth it. Howard had lost a lot of blood, and without proper medical attention, Harry feared that he wouldn't last until tomorrow. Glancing around the diner quickly, the Boy-Who-Lived and kept on living confirmed he was alone before murmuring in Latin. His hands glowed a pale gold as he cast a spell to increase the healing process and promote blood reproduction.

When he was finished, he sat there for a moment, gazing at his blood covered hands. He picked the dry blood from under his fingernails before the urge to wash the life fluid off became too much. He rushed to the bathroom, scrubbing almost religiously all the way up to his elbows. It was everywhere. Grabbing a paper towel, he wiped it across his torso. His pants were ruined, the knees stained from where he had kneeled in the blood.

Grimacing in distaste, he set out to get an extra shirt from his truck when the bell on the door jangled loudly. Everyone was gathered in dining area, around some newcomer that he remembered Percy had commented about. As he stepped into the room, Sandra rushed over to him.

"How is he…" she begged, words rushed together, twisting a bloodied handkerchief between trembling fingers. "Please, is he going be okay…please."

Harry smiled softly at her, running fingers through his hair. Grabbing her hands, Harry halted her frantic fidgeting. Mouth opened, he prepared to answer, but the words stuck in his throat as the newcomer turned around. Emerald green eyes met ocean blue, and Harry's heart gave a shuddering jump before heat and fire filled his chest.


	6. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're locked in here, so what the fuck we doin' now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish"

**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**1:46 p.m.**

They moved with a purpose, everyone frantic as they burst into action. Harry's hands were gripped tightly into fists as he forced his magic down. It danced under his skin like a hurricane, waiting to explode outward and to do Merlin knows what. And it was all centered on _him._

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him away and the eye contact between him and the stranger broke as Harry was yanked into the back room. Once out of sight distance, his magic became almost subdued, pulling away from his core pitifully and the wizard felt the _need_ to go back and…what, he didn't know, but he was sure it would be something embarrassing like cling to the strange man and refuse to let go.

Jeep locked the back door while Harry stood there dumbly, finally snapping at the seemingly younger man when he didn't move. "Help me!" Jeep shouted, feet braced as he shoved at the metal desk. Harry blinked owlishly behind his circular rimmed glasses before he shuffled over. Together with their combined strength they were easily able to position the desk to brace the door.

Once finished, Harry turned to the hall. Jeep moved to join the others, the scraping of chairs and tables were drowned out by the frantic yelling of the others. He hesitated on the threshold, still out of sight. _He_ was in that room, and though Harry knew it was cowardly, he delayed the inevitable confrontation that was bound to happen.

Emerald green eyes darted around the tiny office, trying to find something to occupy his time. His gazed settled on the door and the desk blocking it. Frown twisting his features, Harry cast a subtle ward and repellent around the exit. Hopefully it would keep whatever was coming away from it, and the ward would let him know if it didn't work. The second that door moved, Harry would know.

The once Boy-Who-Lived sighed softly when he could think of nothing else to pass the time. His trainers shuffled across the linoleum floor as he scrounged up his Gryffindor courage and left the office.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**2:09 p.m.**

Michael grunted softly as he turned a table over and placed it against another window. The humans continued to pile a stack of furniture in front of the door, seemingly forgetting that nearly an entire wall was made of glass. The windows stretched from one end of the room to the other, broken by less than half of foot of supporting wall. He doubted they would last long.

The once angel paused as he turned over another table, foot raised to break off the stand. A most curious sensation rushed down his spine and settled in the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling he got years ago in Heaven. He tilted his head to the back of the diner, where he knew the source lay, but he didn't move to find it.

Michael had all but put the memory behind him, thinking it was perhaps just a whimsical daydream, but when he had entered the diner and saw the boy…he knew. He had seen the child, older then he appeared but still but an infant to one who had been around for eons, and something in him snapped. It took more willpower then he had ever known to keep still, to keep from rushing to the boy. Michael had never experienced such a reaction before, and he quelled it to examine later as the boy was pulled out of the room.

The child was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. Hair dark as midnight, pale skin only slightly tanned from the sun, and eyes the color of emerald gems. Michael knew, just looking at him, that this boy was not a child of his Father's. He didn't belong here, not on this plane of his _Lord's._ This being was not God's Creation…and yet Michael had not the heart to call him an abomination. It felt like the boy belonged here and yet didn't at the same time. It left him confused and intrigued.

His blue eyes snapped to attention when the child came back into the main dining area, gaze fixed to the ground as he shuffled forward. He watched as the boy glanced around the room hesitantly, as if afraid at what they would find. It only took seconds for their gazes to meet, and Michael felt that strange sensation again, as if something was lurching out from the boy, reaching for the once-Angel. Michael could feel what was left of his severed Grace reaching back. He saw the boy's eyes widen and before the strange energy could touch him it snapped back to the child so quickly that he swayed on his feet.

The child looked away quickly, rushing over to the others and assisting with barricading the doors and windows as far away from the once-Angel as was possible in the small diner. Michael would have found it amusing if he wasn't so confused himself. He brought his foot down hard, breaking the stand attached to the bottom of the table. Three more times he did this before making his way to the windows, and all that time his ocean blue eyes didn't leave the strange boy.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**8:46 p.m.**

The sun set slowly beyond the horizon, casting the room in shadows that the artificial light did little to illuminate. Harry shifted uncomfortably as he felt the gaze return to him. His magic churned in his core, pulling and stretching as he fought for control. Though he wanted to search for the _other_ , he dared not risk it for fear of his magic latching onto the strange creature.

Harry knew that the man wasn't human. If it wasn't the way his magic was reacting to him, then it was one of the other thousand little things that gave it away. The stranger's presence was all consuming and other worldly, for one. Another was the way he moved. 'Michael' as he was calling himself, didn't move like a human. He didn't blink enough, didn't fidget or pace, didn't twitch or shift. He had been standing in the exact same position for nearly two hours. It made Harry uncomfortable, the way that not only was he so obviously not human, but the way that the others didn't seem to notice.

Sandra's quiet weeping pulled Harry's attention away. He glanced down at the woman who couldn't be much older than him. She sat on the floor, her husband's head in her lap, stroking his hair softly as their daughter stood nearby. Tear tracks smeared the makeup of the young girl, her heavy eyeliner leaving black trails down her cheeks. Harry blinked at them sadly, but dared not to scan him with his magic. He feared how it would react to being so close to the creature.

Emerald eyes darted up to Kyle as the blinds snapped in place. The thuggish man took a few steps back, a noticeable dent in the blinds that he had forced down to gaze outside. Michael stepped forward, grabbing some sort of large gun, one that Harry had never seen before, and stood sentinel as the group crowded to the windows. Everyone had a weapon, even the pregnant woman and Audrey who was sixteen. Everyone except Harry, that is. Jeep shifted uncomfortably beside him, a rifle resting between shaking hands. Seconds later darkness filled the room.

Sandra screamed in alarm, body hunching over her prone husband as her daughter wept silently beside them. "Jeep!" Bob's voice was loud but was still nearly drowned out by the hysterical group. "Get the flashlights!"

"Everybody stay calm!" Percy hissed loudly as torches started to light up one by one. Harry felt one pressed into his hand and he switched it on quickly, shining the light to the metal air ducts on the ceiling. The light reflected back down and lit the room in a dim glow.

The several other flashlights all settled on one area, and Harry turned his head to gaze at the creature. He was startled to note that he was much closer than he expected. Before the lights had gone out, Harry had been at the edge of the room. Somehow in the dark, Harry had moved and now stood feet away from the stranger. Frowning in thought, he shifted further away. He didn't understand the strange pull that the tattooed man had on him, but he sure didn't like it.

"Okay, we're locked in here, so what the fuck we doin' now?" Kyle asked, light shining in Michael's face. There was silence, and then he looked up.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:03 p.m.**

It took more effort than Bob thought as he forced the roof hatch open. It had rusted away with time and sand as it had been years since he had last used it. Kyle followed right after, awkwardly shifting his gun and flashlight as he pulled himself over the lip and onto the gravel covered rooftop.

Michael stopped as he exited the hatch, turning around to assist the one-handed Percy up the last few rungs. They followed the other two as they ducked under the Paradise Falls sign, truer words never stated. The irony was not lost on the General. "Alright, Rambo, you got us up here. Mind tellin' us what we're fighten'?"

Michael frowned at the man, confused at the statement. Percy moved to the edge of the roof, elbows leaning on the barrier as he gripped the flashlight with his prosthetic claw. "Listen!" He whispered, holding up his good hand as he gazed out into the dark. There was silence for several seconds, the desert wind the only sound, before a tune followed after. The delicate chime of a calliope pressed images of hot summers and melting ice-cream into their minds. "You hear what I'm hearing?"

They all turned their gazes to the road, pale headlights could just barely been seen over the dust and sand. "What the hell is that?" Bob demanded, shifting the shotgun to a ready position.

Kyle frowned, moving closer to Bob who stood on the corner. "It sounds almost like…" Percy trailed off, confused.

"Ice cream?" Kyle finished in a question, asking silently if what he heard was for real. Suddenly the headlights became clear as they broke through the dust, the tune louder as the vehicle approached. "It can't be fucking serious, right?" He asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Alright," Michael broke in, blue eyes turning to his weapon. "There's a safety switch on the side of your weapon, you won't be needing it." The other's all brought their weapons up to bare, clicking of the safeties loud over the cheery tune. Bob pumped his single barrel shotgun, face turning grim as the others stood to attention beside him. "Push it all the way down, two clicks. Now, when this starts, you hold on tight. Otherwise, you're gonna blow your hand off."

Michael gazed down the sight of his rifle; the others on the other hand turned their eyes to Percy. The cook stood there for a second before he noticed the stares. "What the fuck are y'all looking at me for?" Quickly Bob and Kyle turned their attention away from his prosthetic hand, and Percy brought his rifle up, awkward with the metal limb.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:08 p.m.**

Harry shifted closer to the window, gazing over Audrey's shoulder as she pulled the blinds down. They didn't have enough tables to cover all the windows, so the two closest to the door remained untouched. It would at least force the things to bottle neck and they could conserve ammo by shooting in one area.

Jeep's hand shook as he awkwardly held the MP5, back straight but face terrified. He stood closest to the door, the guard position, but he seemed unsure. Harry would have gone to him, took position beside him, except he didn't know how to help. With his magic acting weird and the fact he knew nothing about guns; he figured he would be more in the way.

Lights from the truck filled the diner as the vehicle stopped in the parking lot. Audrey gasped, backing into Harry as she hurried away from the window. He steadied her with a hand on her hip and she turned to him with terrified eyes. A gentle nudge had the girl rushing to her parents, bare knees scraping the floor as she settled next to her mom.

"Audrey?" Howard called, his daughter's hand falling over his and her mom's.

"Yeah?" She questioned quietly, sniffling as terrified tears fell from her eyes.

He smiled up at her. "Honey, listen." Words slurred as they leaned closer. "It's the ice-cream man."

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:11 p.m.**

The others beside him stood tense, shifting back and forth as they held their guns ready. Michael stood steady in the face of danger, expression relaxed as he prepared himself. He had fought many battles, won many victories, and had even thrown Lucifer, his most beautiful and loved brother into the pits of Hell. But he could honestly say that he was unsure of what was to come. Everything he had ever done had been done as an Archangel, a General in His army. Though he had no wings, he wasn't human, but he was Angel no longer. He was mortal, and it terrified him.

A figure slowly emerged from the truck, the deceptively cheerful tune finally quiet. A sickly thin man stepped out, booted feet crunching over the gravel. He stopped in front of the vehicle, illuminated by the lights. The man was tall, too tall, and the yellow uniform didn't seem to fit him. He turned his head, taking in the diner and the men on the roof. His face looked sunken in, as if skin had been pulled over bone with no regard for muscle or fat.

Kyle shifted, smirking at the strange man below him. "Aw, man, he don't look that bad." The ice-cream man's head snapped to him with a crack, dead gaze landing on them. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit," he mumbled as if in a prayer. The man's face twisted in a snarl before his mouth open, jaw unhinging like a snakes, the chin resting barely below the collar bone. A screeching howl emitted from throat, an unearthly sound of dying screams and shattered souls.

"Get ready!" Michael commanded, moving closer to the edge of the roof as the others moved away in fear. They watched horrified as the ice-cream man's limbs seemed to grow, pulling away from his body. He ran on all fours, arms longer than his legs. Michael opened fire before he could crash through the diner window. Dozens of bullets hit him before he was finally still.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:12 p.m.**

Harry placed a comforting hand on Charlie's back as she nearly started to hyperventilate. The gunfire had ceased and the others were twisting to gaze out the window. The others had hopeful looks on their faces, but the wizard hero knew that it was far from over.

Charlie's hands were shaking; the white knuckle grip she had around the grip of the gun did little to comfort anybody. Harry placed his hand, not much bigger than her own, over her grip and he pushed until she lowered the muzzle to the floor. She looked at him, her doe brown eyes blown in fear. He tried to give her a comforting smile but it came out more as a grimace.

Movement from the booths caught his eyes. Audrey was shifting, twisting her body around and crouching as she inched closer to the window. Harry made an abrupt movement, a hiss escaping his throat that bordered a curse in Parseltongue. Both drew attention to him, and he caught Audrey's gaze, shaking his head quickly and miming with his hand for her to get down.

The teenager gave him a confused look before doing as he asked. She settled closer to the ground by her parents, nearly lying across her mother's lap as she held her father's hand. Harry sighed in relief and crouched further behind the counter, Charlie doing the same next to him. She brought her gun back up, the base of the grip resting on the counter top, the muzzle aimed to the window. She wasn't shaking as bad now and Jeep gave her a soft look before he returned his gaze to the outside.

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**Paradise Falls, Arizona**

**December 23** **rd** **, 2010**

**9:13 p.m.**

"Is that it?" Kyle questioned, moving closer to the edge to gaze at the malformed human. Bob and Percy moved closer as well, eyes riveted on the dead _thing_. Michael's attention, however, was fixed firmly on the road.

Slowly, the others turned to look as well, hearts thudding and hands sweating as they took in the darkness. One by one, headlights appeared in the horizon; both lanes full of cars, bumper to bumper as the crested the small hill and made their way closer to the diner.

Michael felt his mortal heart jump in his chest but his voice was steady as if commanding the Host in battle. "Now! Shoot them!"

Windows shattered and tires blew as they opened fire upon the chain of vehicles. The shell casings flew from the semi-automatic weapons like water droplets from sprinklers, rolling along the gravel and bouncing off of shoes. An engine was hit, the vehicle stopped. A car swerved around it, but the minivan couldn't and they collided with a powerful crunch and an explosion that lit up the night. The fire blazed and crackled as more cars joined the inferno…but not enough.

Michael's attention was pulled and he turned, taking in the lights from the other side of the highway. There were dozens of more cars. He ejected the magazine, replacing it with a full one before moving to the other side of the roof. The gun clattered to the ground as he grabbed the weapon hidden behind the giant 'S'. He aimed the rocket launcher at the first car firing before it locked. It didn't need to. The car went up in a ball of flame and smoke, slowing down the ones behind it, buying them some more time.

A heartbeat later and he had the MP5 back up and firing rapidly, taking out a semi-truck and then a Subaru. But there were simply too many. The cars started to pull to a stop along the road in front of the diner. Doors opening and people started to exit. Gunfire stopped as the people started to approach. Shooting at cars was easy. Kyle blinked and looked away as he spotted a child with a balloon trotting along next to a man that could have been her father. There were old people, young, children, grandparents, teenagers, tourists. They were just people. Except they weren't

Kyle gazed at the child, white balloon in hand, pink birthday dress and sneakers. He froze, too far away to see her black eyes, he only saw a little girl. Michael pushed him aside, opening fire upon the masses, seconds later the child fell as a bullet ripped through her chest.

"They're just regular people!" He yelled, disgusted.

"Not anymore. Keep firing!" Michael commanded. The others only hesitated a moment longer before they sited down their barrels and squeezed their triggers. The bodies fell, one by one, but they seemed not to care. Michael recognized the tactic. They were going to run out of bullets long before they ran out of bodies. They were being overrun by the sheer number of hostiles.

Blue eyes darted around; he noticed some creeping up from the other side. He moved to intercept. "Spread out! Don't let them get near the windows!" Bodies hit the ground like bullet casings, sound of rain on pavement.

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